Spark
by Silver Hyacinth
Summary: Witches were supposed to be enemies of the empire—vicious, bloodthirsty, and soulless, capable of killing a man with the snap of a finger. But the boy in front of Kageyama was none of those things. He was beautiful, alive, and glowing: He was fire itself. — Original Witch/Magic AU. Kagehina.
1. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

 **⁓✫⁓**

* * *

 _Left target, top right bicep._ Deep breath in: Kageyama's body turned sharply as his fingers released a throwing knife. With insane speed and accuracy, the small projectile sailed end-over-end through the air before embedding itself hilt-deep in the soft fiber of the human-shaped wooden target to his far left.

He sighed and relaxed out of his throwing position, studying his work calculatingly. It was a good shot, but by no means perfect. He knew a guy who had hit the broadside of a fleeing Witch twenty feet away in a dense forest on horseback. Of course, the man was head of the Gold Unit and Kageyama's own superior officer, but that meant nothing to him. If someone else could make a shot that outrageous, he could, too.

Crossing the few feet to reach the target, Kageyama yanked the knife free with a scowl, flipping it through his fingers to study the leather-bound hilt, scrutinizing it. The knife would be much lighter and easier to throw with the leather wrapping, but gripping the bare blade would make it more slippery: easier to botch an easy shot and accidently take out someone's eye. Was he willing to risk it for the sake of lowered air resistance? It would increase the power of the knife on impact…

Whatever. He'd just leave the wrappings on for now. Though he now had the irrational urge to petition a new set of throwing knives from the royal blacksmith, ones both safe, light, and easy to handle. Maybe hollow wooden hilts would be a sufficient replacement for the leather. That way he could have them made with a custom grip; easier to throw quickly and accurately.

Of course, he had his Witchblades, but those were only ideal for close combat. Every Witchhunter was given a set when Knighted into the Royal Extermination Corp, the sleek sickle-shaped blades specially designed to take off a Witch's head in one clean flick of the wrist. Kageyama had nothing against the weapons, but he much preferred bows and other long-range weapons as his strong-suit had always been his impeccable aim.

Striking quickly and from a distance was much safer and smarter than getting close enough to look a Witch in the eye. Close-range combat with a magic user was always fighting blind. And those blistering Witchblades left way too many weak spots. Kageyama much preferred the feeling of a knife flying from between his fingers or an arrow whizzing past his ear as he released a taut bowstring. The feeling of hitting a hard-to-reach target and bringing them down with one shot was exhilarating—a feeling second to none.

Kageyama studied the weapon between his fingers for a few more seconds, still discontent with the weapon and its many flaws. Letting out a chagrined exhalation, he flipped the instrument through his fingers and shifted his body to face a new target. "Oh well. This will have to do." Though, he really would have to have a chat with the Weapons Master about this. How irritating.

Lowering into an offensive stance, Kageyama cocked his arm back, prepared to let the knife fly once again, having settled his eyes on a new weak spot of the human body: the ankle. Ankles were hard to get to at times, but it was always handy to be able to hit one. If you cut it at the right angle, the target would be immobilized.

Of course, if it was a Witch, their magic would still function just fine, but that was another matter entirely, and one Kageyama would rather not address at that particular moment. Instead, he sharpened his senses as he always did before a throw, focusing wholly on his target, taking evened breaths as he gave himself his mark. Front target, side of left ankle.

The muscles in his wrist tensed in preparation of the throw as his fingers twitched imperceptibly, lining up perfectly with his target. It was a perfect shot. If he really wanted to show off, he could probably use two knives and hit both ankles at once. Maybe even do a theatrical flip. That would piss his fellow soldiers off for sure—not that any of them were watching.

"Tobio!"

Without a second's thought, Kageyama's body reacted, twisting to hurl the knife straight at the speaker; an unfortunate reflex he'd picked up over the years. Luckily, the new arrival had near-perfect reflexes and casually stretched his neck ever-so-slightly to the left, the blade whizzing past and imbedding in a tall oak behind him. The soldier smiled cordially, unoffended by the throw that would've killed almost anyone else. "I see you're still gifted with those knives of yours, Tobio."

Kageyama stood slowly, still recovering from the shock of adrenaline from almost killing his superior. "I suppose so. You shouldn't sneak up on me like that, Captain." He didn't offer an apology—Captain Oikawa and he had gone through this before multiple times. He was like a fox, popping out of nowhere without a sound. Kageyama and the other soldiers had almost beheaded the man more than a few times and it had become a sort of joke between them all.

Reaching an arm behind his back, Oikawa deftly retrieved the knife from the tree it was buried in and carefully handed it off to Kageyama. "I would be more careful with these if I were you," the older boy advised with a teasing wink. "If you play with sharp things, you'll eventually get cut, you know."

 _Gah, I forgot how much I hate him_. Kageyama shot his commanding officer an unamused look, offering no verbal response, deeming it safer to stay silent as he turned back to his target and prepared to throw again. He and Oikawa were distinctly different, and whenever they were around each other, their personalities clashed so much it made others steer clear of them.

Though they were only about two years apart in age, Oikawa treated Kageyama like a child. Kageyama knew he felt threatened by him. When he'd graduated top of his class at the Royal Training Academy, he'd had been offered Oikawa'a job on the spot—which was no doubt why the older man had such a huge problem with him. But he didn't exactly understand _why_ because he'd immediately turned down the position, wanting to work his way up from the bottom the humble and honest way.

Maybe that made Oikawa believe Kageyama thought he was better than him, he wasn't really sure. Whatever the case, they had an ongoing, one-sided rivalry where Oikawa constantly teased and belittled Kageyama whenever he got the chance. Some would call them 'friends,' but the words Kageyama would use were 'mortal enemies with a hint of false comradery (on Oikawa's part) and indifference (on Kageyama's).'

Honestly, he could care less about his commanding officer's issues with him. All he was worried about was slowly working his way up the ranks _the right way_. His goal was to one day belong to the elite force tasked with protecting the royal family, but to get to there, he'd first have to defeat the most powerful type of Witch in existence—a Thaumaturge. And that wasn't exactly an easy feat.

In fact, only ten had ever managed it, and one was the king himself, the other nine belonging to the very same guard he aspired to be a part of. It would most definitely be a challenge, but challenges were what excited Kageyama the most. Nothing sharpened his reflexes or excited him like a competition, and one against virtually every other Witchhunter in existence was most thrilling indeed,

Kageyama's fingers released the knife and it sailed through the air effortlessly, digging into the wood-person's ankle in the blink of an eye—exactly where he'd wanted it. Whipping out three more, he took aim and hit the other ankle and the two wrists in quick succession, leaving the humanoid target crucified as he once again turned his attention to Oikawa, who was—unfortunately—still there. "Did you want something?" He was beginning to get annoyed by the man's silent but judgmental presence.

Oikawa smiled, eyes narrowed as they seemed to pick apart Kageyama piece by piece, analyzing him and leaving no stone unturned. (He had to fight back the urge to squirm in discomfort.) "It's time for group sparring," he said finally, turning away with a relaxed smile on his face, expression changing in an instant to appear unthreatening. "You didn't forget about the mission tomorrow, did you?"

Irritated by the sudden change of subject, Kageyama ignored the question and went to retrieve his knives, tugging each one out with a quick jerk of his hand, running a finger over the leather grip on each with annoyance before placing it back in the pouch at his waist. Oikawa really did get on his nerves. He was one of those people that, no matter how nice they acted, seemed untrustworthy. He couldn't exactly explain it, but Kageyama trusted his instincts—and therefor didn't trust Oikawa.

Nevertheless, he couldn't ignore his superior forever. After placing the last knife in its holder, he turned to his commanding officer and gave a slight nod. "I know. I'm ready."

The mission Oikawa spoke of was to a village a little ways west of Karasuno Kingdom. It was more of a recon mission than anything else; scoping out the area after complaints of unusually high amounts of misfortune surrounding the village, believed by its inhabitants to be caused by magic. Kageyama wasn't sure he bought that: No Witch was stupid enough to curse a village so near the border, unless they had a death wish, maybe.

But what the king ordered was final, and so they were being sent out the next morning to head up the investigation into the villagers' claims. Kageyama didn't expect much based on the reports he'd heard, but he couldn't exactly say no to the king, could he? Or Oikawa, even though it bothered him to no end to admit it.

Almost seeming to read his mind, Oikawa flashed him an irritatingly cheerful smile, wrapping an arm around Kageyama and ushering him back along the path. "I can tell you're more than excited. I'll tell you what: We originally weren't going to invite you, but a few of us are heading over to a tavern later to, ah, alleviate some of the stress of the mission, if you understand my meaning." His eyes shone with a humor Kageyama honestly couldn't sympathize with and he chuckled at his own joke.

Holding back a snort, Kageyama struggled not to roll his eyes. "Gee. Thanks, but no thanks. I have to pack."

The older soldier elbowed his junior playfully in the ribs, though it failed to elicit the desired response from the recipient. "Oh, come on, Tobio, you're no fun!" Oikawa whined, pouting like a petulant child who had been told he can't have dessert. "You're eighteen; still young and impressionable. When are you going to grab life by the horns and _live_ a little?"

"You're only twenty-one," Kageyama droned, annoyed. "Where do you get off calling me 'young' when you're only two years older, Captain?" Seriously, if Oikawa wasn't his commanding officer, Kageyama was sure he would've decked him about a hundred times over by now. He felt eternally sorry for the poor woman that ended up marrying the guy.

"Hey, don't talk back to your superior," Oikawa huffed, reminding Kageyama more and more of a scolded kid as he crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks comically. Kageyama would've laughed—if he had a sense of humor that matched Oikawa's immaturity. "I swear, Tobio, you are so irksome…" Kageyama blocked out the rest of his speech, staring down at the ground as they walked.

The mission wasn't something he was exactly excited about. It was a week-long endeavor, and Kageyama would much rather spend his time improving his aim and working on his reaction time than stomping around a muddy village chasing after the ghost of a made-up Witch. He was sure their efforts would be fruitless and they'd return emptyhanded, having spent a week doing absolutely nothing of any help to the kingdom whatsoever.

If only Kageyama had accepted that stupid head position. Then at least he would have had some say in this idiotic traipse through the woods. But he didn't like being the leader: having people depend on him and look to him for guidance. It was unsettling. Kageyama looked out for himself and no one else. That was just how he operated. His own safety was his number one priority.

That may have seemed selfish to others, but Kageyama didn't really have anyone else to look after or worry about. His parents had died when he was ten, leaving him alone in the world in a rundown village with no money and no way to earn any. Lucky for him, he seemed to have a natural knack for fighting and had quickly picked up a place among the recruits training under the royal army.

He had moved up the ranks quickly, securing himself a spot amidst the top-tier of the REC, the Gold Unit. They were in charge of handling two of the six classes of Witches: the two most powerful, Sorcerers and Thaumaturges. Kageyama figured (at the time) that this would give him an advantage in finding a powerful Witch to kill and secure himself a spot in the king's personal guard, but he was _absolutely_ wrong.

All the Gold Unit did was chase after half-formed claims of powerful magic, hoping to capture a target— _any_ target. It was absolutely pitiful—and very boring—and Kageyama was slightly ashamed to be a part of it.

It wasn't that the soldiers weren't skilled—they were. It was just that there was never any truth to Witch reports. The men couldn't help it if all the Witches went into hiding, leaving none for them to ride all the way to glory, as Kageyama had hoped to do. But once you committed yourself to a Unit, you were stuck there with only two ways to get out: Be banished or rise up a rank.

Neither of these was particularly appealing, so Kageyama was forced to wallow where he was, waiting until he either died of boredom or finally caught an actual, flesh-and-blood Witch… which _probably_ wouldn't happen any time soon. How depressing…

"Tobio, are you listening?"

Kageyama only began to pay attention when he realized Oikawa was talking directly to him now. "Yes. What?"

"I _said_ if I beat you at sparring, you have to come to the tavern with us," the brunette repeated, wearing a smile that struck Kageyama as oddly evil. "I'll even go easy on you."

It was a trap: Definitely a trap. After he'd phrased it that way, Oikawa knew Kageyama wouldn't be able to refuse the obvious challenge. He'd always had a problem backing down, and Oikawa knew it from their years of competitive banter. Damn him, that irritating bastard.

"Fine," he eventually scoffed, shoving aside his reluctance before his senior could catch wind of it. "But I don't need you to take it easy on me. I can beat you just fine as-is."

Oikawa chuckled as Kageyama increased his pace to lengthen the space between them. "Oh, is that so? That's quite a lot of confidence, Tobio." He smirked wickedly and Kageyama almost— _almost_ —regretted agreeing. "Let's hope you can back it up."

* * *

 **A/N:** A new original AU I came up with. As soon as I thought of it I knew it would be perfect for Kagehina~ I cross-posted it to Wattpad so go check it out there too (user is MochiMochiMo). I know I should be finishing stories instead of starting them but I have a problem okay ;-;

Anyway, sorry I didn't post for a few weeks: I was on vacation. But I'm back now so expect updates regularly. As always, feel free to leave comments, corrections, et cetera down in the review section and follow + fav if you like the story and want more. Ciao~


	2. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

 **⁓✫⁓**

* * *

Long story short: he _couldn't_ back it up. For all his confidence, Kageyama lost to Oikawa almost immediately. That hurt his pride even more than the bruises and scrapes he earned during the fight, which were innumerable considering the senior officer had flipped him over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

The sound of his fellow soldiers' laughter at the spectacle still rang in Kageyama's ears, making him feel like his blood was going to boil over as he reluctantly followed the aforementioned loud rowdy bunch to the local tavern, The Spotted Crow. His shoulders were taut with irritation and he was sure he was scowling since people kept jumping out of his way like he was a rabid wolf prepped to bite, but he could honestly care less.

He wasn't going along for fun or to pick up a woman; he was _going_ because he couldn't control his stupid pride, so he had no need to look happy about it. He should've known he would lose, of course: After all, Oikawa was two years his senior and, on top of that, the leader of his Unit. The man was undoubtedly the better soldier from a militaristic standpoint, yet Kageyama had still accepted a challenge from him—and at _sparring_ , no less. No doubt he looked like an idiot.

"Stop frowning or you'll drive away all the ladies!" one of his comrades complained, laughing gaily and elbowing him lightly in the side, obviously in a light-hearted, jolly mood—which Kageyama unfortunately didn't share. "Loosen up and have some fun! Lord knows we'll all need it before the shit-fest tomorrow!"

The whole group burst out laughing at that and Kageyama sighed, slowing his pace to sink to the back of the group and avoid dampening their cheerful miasma with his obvious annoyance. He had never been one for social interactions, or drinking, for that matter. It seemed foolish to him; a real waste of time that could otherwise be spent honing and refining his skills as a warrior—something actually _important_.

And this… this was _definitely_ not important. But he couldn't get out of it now: They were already approaching the tavern, the rest of the Unit laughing and elbowing one another, working up an excited undercurrent of murmurs and lewd jokes. _Soldiers?_ _Children, more like_.

Kageyama tried to hang back so much they would (hopefully) forget him entirely, but with sharp eyes, Oikawa caught him by the arm and ushered him in through the doors, preventing any hopes of an early escape.

Immediately, the heavy scent of beer and greasy food assaulted him head-on and Kageyama stumbled, astounded by the strong odor as his 'friends'— _friends?_ They were lucky if he didn't kill them all in their sleep after this—pulled him towards a table in the corner of the dimly-lit space.

Serving girls swept past in long cotton frocks and frilly aprons, dishing out food and drink, giggling when the more handsome of the establishment's drunken patrons flirted with them. Kageyama resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose and roll his eyes at the stereotypicality of it all, collapsing in a chair and trying to make himself look small so they would forget about him and hopefully give him a chance to escape.

Luckily, they seemed to be rather caught up in discussing what drinks they wanted and which women they sought for their beds that night— _idiots_. Kageyama sighed and settled down in his seat, knowing he would have to wait for them all to have at least one drink before their minds had sufficiently dulled and he could slip away.

Oh well. At least he could entertain himself with the drunken activity of the other customers while he waited. It was rather funny to observe.

One man tried to get up, swaying and red-faced, only to catch his ankle on his askew chair, losing his already-precarious balance and toppling backwards into another man who lost hold of his full drink, sending it spraying all over the front of a poor barmaid who squealed and darted away, drenched from head to foot in smelly wheat ale.

Kageyama snickered silently to himself, hiding his face in his shoulder to conceal his amusement. Drunks truly offered a good laugh. And once his friends joined that rambling bunch, he would be free to take his leave.

* * *

It proved to be a long wait. Though most of the others were drunk after just half a tankard, Oikawa showed an unnaturally strong tolerance for alcohol, and it was almost an hour before he finally took his attention off Kageyama and adopted a jolly, bleary-eyed gaze, joining in on the helter-skelter conversation taking place amongst the other soldiers.

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, the raven-haired boy quickly pushed his chair away from the table—just enough to squeeze out of it. He slid his back along the wall until he reached a corner and was safely out of sight of his group.

Previously-tensed shoulders slumped as Kageyama exhaled, relaxing now that escape was assured. As he scooted ever closer to the large oaken door, he reminded himself never to get dragged along to a tavern—or make a bet with Oikawa—ever again.

Taverns were loud and smelly; _definitely_ not an environment Kageyama wished to visit ever again, and this he muttered to himself as he darted across the floor towards the now-open door. "Stupid tavern. Stupid Oikawa. Stupid drunks. Stupid—" Men were bustling in and out of the tavern constantly now, creating an easy flow of people to slip in and disappear amongst, so at least there was that.

Kageyama suddenly paused for a moment, eyes tracking something that had caught his eye across the bar. A cloaked figure, carrying a medium leather satchel across their back, hunched low and heading quickly for the bar's back exit. Their face was cast in shadow by the cloak's peaked hood, but judging by the slight frame and precise movements, Kageyama would guess it was a woman.

Navy eyes narrowing in suspicion, he moved without realizing it, deftly cutting around the edges of the bar to reach the back door the figure was aiming for. Something about this stranger seemed… _tingly_. A strange feeling lingered in the air that tickled Kageyama's spine whenever he looked over.

Normally he would just let it go and be on his merry way—after all, it was his time off and he had no reason to be policing about looking for trouble—but something in his gut told him to chase after the mystery woman: some odd, unspoken instinct. And Witchhunters trusted their instincts, so, even though it was probably a bad idea… he danced around a full table and slipped through the door, following the figure out into the night.

* * *

It was cooler outside than it had been earlier during training, the cloudy sky having cleared up to display the stars in full vivid, brilliant detail. The small crescent moon hung low and faint in the dark indigo sky, painting the town in a pallid glow, dusting empty alleyways and doorsteps in deep, shifting shadow.

These shadows are what the figure aimed for now, darting between two brick townhouses to slip soundlessly into a narrow alley, heading towards the forested border of the town—not too far from the tavern, Kageyama noted. He followed after, stepping lightly so as not to make a sound and alert the woman to his presence.

Unfortunately, the slight figure was much defter than he, effortlessly skirting around any obstacle in their way, keeping up a quick, efficient speed. Kageyama tried to keep up, but he was taller and broader than the tiny individual and was finding it difficult to match the pace they so easily retained. He lengthened his strides to try and catch up, not about to be bested by a civilian.

Reaching the mouth of the alley, the figure slipped out into the light of the moon, their dark cloak scraping across the long gravel path leading to the dense forest beyond, the shadows making the trees blend together like strokes of ink. Kageyama came to a halt, biting his lip as his eyes flickered nervously from the path to the figure up ahead. He couldn't discreetly follow the woman anymore: the gravel would make it impossible to stay silent.

He supposed he could always call out. If she had nothing to hide, she would stop and talk to him civilly... But if she _was_ guilty, it would give her plenty of time to run, and based on the mannerisms he'd observed so far, Kageyama knew he wouldn't be able to catch up. Neither was ideal. It was the flip of a coin now, really.

But which side should he choose?

"Hey!" The words were out of Kageyama's mouth before he could fully think it through, his aching legs making the decision for him, sticking to the less extraneous course of action—no doubt he would slap himself for making such an impulsive decision later. "You there!"

This was the deciding moment.

The poor figure jumped like they'd had the scare of their life, whipping around so fast their peaked hood flew right off. Kageyama's eyes widened as a strand of thought seized him: _Not a girl._ Indeed, no, not a girl, but a bedraggled redheaded boy with tensed shoulders and startled chocolate eyes, staring at him across the path.

But he didn't run, so Kageyama took a step forward, standing in the moonlight so he could easily be seen. He paused then and stared, letting himself stand transfixed for a moment. He'd never seen a boy so _small_ before. He was as dainty as a girl and unusually pretty—though that, of course, was a thought that didn't matter, so he cast it off quickly.

Maybe this boy was a child? But he was only about a head or so shorter than Kageyama, who was 18. And not to mention he had been in a tavern by himself late in the night, so perhaps not…

They continued to stare at one another, Kageyama still trying to gather his wits about him. The boy shifted nervously; right foot, left foot, and back again. "Wh-what do you want?" he eventually squeaked, squaring his shoulders in an attempt to look unafraid, even though his trembling voice and wide eyes gave him up instantly.

Kageyama realized then that he must've looked like a robber and took a startled half-step back. He was wearing casual clothes, not his soldier's uniform, and his hair was messy—he hadn't bothered to fix it after training. The poor boy probably thought he was about to get mugged. _What kind of soldier am I?_

"Sorry," he said quickly, holding up his hands in a placating and non-threatening manner. "I didn't mean to scare you. I, um…" He paused, searching for the right words. 'You looked suspicious' didn't seem acceptable considering he hadn't really _done_ anything to warrant suspicion in the first place…

Eyes settling on the leather satchel, Kageyama was blissfully struck with a note of inspiration and continued on in a more cordial, friendly tone. "I saw you carrying that satchel and I thought you might need some help. It looks heavy." Realizing that might sound offensive, he hurried on, "I mean, I, um— I originally thought you were a woman, so…"

 _Shit. Not less offensive._ He felt like slapping himself, a flush creeping up his neck and warming the tips of his ears.

But—to his great surprise and amazement—the boy giggled: _Giggled_ , his almond eyes sparkling in amusement as he covered his mouth with a small, pale hand. Kageyama was quite shocked by the simple gesture—the opposite of the reaction he'd been expecting.

"I get that a lot," the redhead intoned once his laughter had finally died off. His voice was soft and surprisingly melodic when it wasn't full of terror—a hint of humor still remained, making it seem lighter and airier. "Thank you for your concern, but I can manage just fine on my own, sir."

"Oh." Kageyama wasn't sure what else to say, feeling ridiculous. Obviously his instincts had _no clue_ what they were doing. This boy was about as threatening as a butterfly resting on a flower. He felt his blush deepen, embarrassed by his mistake. "Well, I am _incredibly_ sorry for troubling you." He inclined his head slightly. "Have a nice night."

The boy didn't respond, but his mouth tipped upwards in a half smile, eyes shining in amusement as he turned wordlessly and headed towards the forest, cloak sweeping against the pebbles. Moonlight caught in his red hair, his face lit by a halo of golden fire.

Kageyama watched silently as that fire retreated farther and farther down the path, eventually ducking in amongst the trees and disappearing altogether, almost like the dying embers of a bonfire or an elusive Will o' the Wisp. That odd feeling lingered in his chest, and a single, disjointed thought ran through his mind: _I didn't ask his name._

A slight stirring of wind brushed against his arm then and Kageyama came back to himself with a rough jolt, the sensations that had vacated him rushing in once again. The gravel crunched under his feet as he forced himself to turn away, the moonlight sifting the shadows into swirls of black across his arms as he moved.

He hoped Oikawa wouldn't be mad about him skipping out on the tavern activities—he hoped he would be too drunk to remember _any_ of the night's events, let alone his feeble escape—but he could honestly care less at that moment.

His mind was oddly focused, the subject—the flame-red of the fire boy's hair—still consuming his thoughts, leaving little room for anything else. _I've never seen hair so red before, like the early-morning sunrise. Who was he? Where did he come from?_ _Another village, surely._

Kageyama had to shake his head a good few times to clear it of these useless thoughts. They didn't matter. He really needed to be focusing on the mission occurring the next day— _that_ mattered. But his mind just couldn't seem to stop wandering.

 _Odd._ A frown displaced his lips as he ducked out of the alleyway and headed towards the soldier's barracks, another thought crossing his mind. Though the boy had obviously not posed any threat, the strange expectant feeling still lingered in his chest, like the charged air before a storm—the opposite of the warm, loud atmosphere that seeped from the tavern where he'd left his friends behind.

But what kind of storm could a tiny redheaded boy bring?

* * *

 **A/N:** Luckily I had two chapters pre-written for this (;´▽｀) I should be updating my other stories soon so rest assured your favs will soon continue~ ᕙ(•̀ ᗜ •́)ᕗ I've been planning on some more chapters so get ready (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑ As always, feelf ree to leave comments, suggestions, et cetera down in the review section and follow + fav to show your support~ ヽ(•‿•)ノ


	3. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

 **⁓✫⁓**

* * *

The next morning brought with it an early rising—and a great upheaval. When Kageyama finally arrived at the edge of the forest where the soldier's caravan party would be departing, he found the place in an uproar, servants bustling about as carriages were loaded with supplies, horses were bridled and saddled, and trunks were stacked upon flat wagon beds.

Other Unit members polished their Witchblades or helped drag heavy Witchcrates—giant cage-like contraptions of magic-proof silver—up wooden loading ramps via thick ropes attached to either side. Their envoy was bringing two of them, though just one was big enough to fit at least three men standing abreast.

Kageyama had never particularly liked Witchcrates. They were too much like animal cages, and while he would admit that Witches were dangerous, he just _couldn't_ approve of locking them up like livestock, even if it was the only safe means to transport them.

But rules were rules, so Kageyama said nothing as he loaded his trunk with the others and readied his horse. Captain Oikawa was situated near the front of the party, the coat of his tawny mare shining in the early morning sun. Beside him were his right-hand man, Iwaizumi, and one of the king's own soldiers, Sawamura Daichi, the sixth member of the Black Guard: the king's personal protection squad.

It was surprising to see one of _them_ joining such a tedious mission. Normally, Blacks didn't associate with anyone outside their own task force, let alone join lesser-ranked soldiers on simple scouting missions. Kageyama was curious as to why Sawamura was there—and, more importantly, why the king had ordered him to be.

The Black Guard did nothing without the king's direct instruction, so something must've been amiss for such an esteemed warrior to be demoted to a common babysitter—though Oikawa really needed one at times.

Not only that, but the usually stoic man seemed nervous sitting astride his black Arabian. His expression beneath the cowled hood of his cloak was wary and alert, one leather-gloved hand resting on the sheathed Witchblade at his hip. His steed seemed to share his sentiments, pacing back and forth and stamping its hooves in discomfort.

It was enough to give Kageyama temporary pause, but he had little time to think before Oikawa let out a shrill whistle to draw everyone's attention. "Soldiers, line up! We move in twenty." He steadied the reins in his left hand and galloped towards the front caravan with Sawamura and Iwaizumi as the rest of the Unit hurried to finish the wagon prep.

Placing his foot in the stirrup, Kageyama mounted his stallion and joined the line of other soldiers heading forward to lead the procession. The weather was perfect that morning, not a cloud in the sky: A good start to the expedition. Now all they had to worry about was running into a wild animal—or a wild Witch, but _those_ chances were slim to none. Kageyama himself had only ever seen one Witch in his lifetime: The one who'd burned his village to the ground when he was five years old.

Not that he had a prejudice against Witches or anything because of it; he realized that that was one person in a whole species, and therefore didn't account for _all_ of them. Still, he'd been disturbed by magic—and fire—ever since. If they saw a Witch, he just _might_ get trigger-happy and take their head right off, even though they were supposed to be brought into the kingdom for capital retribution.

Anyway, it wasn't like they were _likely_ to run into one. Kageyama was positive this would be just another boring, routine investigation that turned up absolutely nothing. They'd be back home in no time, lying on their asses in the barracks with nothing to do but drink and gamble until the next boy-cried-wolf job came in and they were all sent off on another foolhardy expedition.

Kageyama didn't really have a right to complain considering the lack of action meant the kingdom was safe, but still, he'd joined the army in hopes of being able to fight something, and since there was never anything action-worthy going on, he felt like he had no purpose. A purposeless man might as well be dead.

"Tobio, I see you're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning." Oikawa pulled up on his left and Kageyama struggled not to draw his blade right then and slice the captain straight off his horse. Since he realized that would _probably_ end up with his execution, he resigned himself to a stiff nod instead.

He really hoped Oikawa would get the hint that he wasn't in the mood to talk, but unfortunately, the man was as dense as he was annoying. "So, you didn't leave the bar with us last night. Care to explain where exactly you went?"

Kageyama cursed inwardly and stared at the reins in his right hand, struggling to come up with a viable excuse. "Uh... I— I was, um—"

Oikawa cut off his useless stammering with a chuckle and winked conspiratorially. "It's okay, relax! I heard you followed someone out. She must've been extra cute to draw attention from a guy like you, hmmm?"

"Um... uh, yes!" Kageyama clutched his reins tighter and forced a laugh, grasping at the logical alibi gratefully. "Yeah, she _was_ very cute. Sorry I didn't let you all know before I ducked out. I was kind of in a hurry."

"Oh, I _bet_ you were." The captain snickered. "Seriously, I just _can't_ believe that the infamous cold-hearted Kageyama Tobio would _ever_ fall prey to a wom— _Ow_!" From his other side, Iwaizumi galloped up, swatting the captain on the side of the head with a canteen of water, nearly knocking him face-first off his steed.

"Stop bothering the soldiers, Shittykawa," he ordered gruffly, restraining his horse to a trot to keep pace with them. He was the only person who could _possibly_ get away with talking that way to the captain. Kageyama had heard they were childhood friends and had gone through the academy together. Still, it was hilarious to see Oikawa's withdrawn expression as he muttered something under his breath and rubbed his head offensively.

"Alright, alright, geez. I'm _going_." He spurred his mare into a run and shot a petulant glare at Iwaizumi and Kageyama before disappearing around a wagon up ahead. Kageyama had to hold back a snicker as he shot a grateful nod Iwaizumi's way. The older man nodded back gruffly before riding off towards the back part of the procession, where about a dozen soldiers had been stationed in case of an assault.

The layout of the envoy was essentially like a cage, men lining the sides and back of the line of carriages and wagons to act as a defensive wall if anything or anyone were to attack. Kageyama thought it was a little bit much considering the foreseeable _lack_ of danger, but it was sort of reassuring to know they were protected.

Though at that point, he was actually starting to _hope_ for an ambush. The trip was already dreadfully boring, and they'd only just entered the forest. Kageyama was part of the group on the left side of the protection bracket, and from his position, he couldn't see anything save for the long line of supply wagons stretching out into the forest ahead.

He sighed monotonously. _Oh well. Maybe a bear will attack and we'll_ actually _have something to do on this ridiculous trip._

* * *

Their westward trek lasted the whole day, and by the time the sunset began to dust the treetops with golden light, they were only halfway to the village. The forest got darker and denser the deeper in they traveled, and the group had a rough time finding a clearing big enough to make camp.

By the time the wagons and carriages had finally been aligned in a circle, tents had been pitched, horses watered and fed, and a cooking fire started, Kageyama wanted nothing more than to collapse in his sleeping bag and doze off.

Unfortunately, he couldn't skip dinner because they were leaving early the next morning without pausing for breakfast, so now was the last chance for food before setting off again. So as soon as he'd let his horse out to pasture and given her a drink, Kageyama settled with resignation in the circle of men situated around the fire.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi were absent, as well as Sawamura, and Kageyama faintly wondered where they'd gone, but he was too tired to really care. As he sat waiting for the food to finish cooking, he gazed out at the edge of the forest beyond the caravans with disinterest. They _hadn't_ run into a bear; in fact, they hadn't run into _anything_.

As Kageyama had guessed, the forest wasn't teeming with danger. It was just a forest, full of birds, rabbits, and tiny foxes. No bears, no wolves, and _no_ Witches. There probably weren't any Witches in the village, either. _Supposedly_ they had reported a curse that caused sickness and drought, but those sounded like common problems to Kageyama.

The villagers were just trying to blame their poor fortune on some higher power in hopes that the problem could be resolved and their village would be healthy again. There was absolutely nothing magical about it. It was—he dared to say—foolish of the king to keep indulging in these faulty claims. It was a waste of everyone's time.

"Kageyama." One of his fellow Unit members passed him a bowl of stew. "Eat up."

"Thanks." He shoveled the broth into his mouth with a tired sigh. It was getting cold out, and the ground did little to keep the chill away. Kageyama could've been back in his warm bed at that moment if they hadn't been sent out on this stupid so-called 'mission.' It was aggravating. But there was no use complaining now: he was going to sleep on the hard ground and eat fatty duck soup whether he liked it or not.

* * *

As the other soldiers gathered closer to the fire and chatted loudly, Kageyama finished his dinner quickly and retreated back to his tent, which he'd pitched as far away from everyone else as possible. The other soldiers tended to like to stay up telling stories and drinking, and all Kageyama was interested in was getting some sleep.

The night sounds of the forest overpowered the other soldiers way out there, and Kageyama paused to listen to the crickets as he pulled off his boots in preparation for bed. Above, the sky was bright with millions of stars, each constellation etched out in perfect detail. Kageyama had to admit, the view was pretty breath-taking. Even though the mission was lack-luster, this was—

There was a sudden sharp _crack!_ from the forest—a stick snapping—and Kageyama's eyes snapped to the side. He slowly placed his remaining shoe on the ground and crawled forward on his knees, peering out into the dark woods with a hand on the sheath at his hip. It was hard to see way out there, far away from the fire and the lanterns, but the moon offered a soft spotlight, and Kageyama could swear he saw a flash of familiar bright red in the sea of green.

It lasted only a second, but the shocking color stood out brightly against the dark background, and Kageyama's mind flashed back to the boy from the tavern, his bright ginger hair shining in the moonlight. It was definitely the same color. But what would _he_ be doing way out there in the middle of the night?

As soon as he'd processed it, the color disappeared, and the forest went silent once again. Kageyama sank to his knees and stared out into the trees for another few minutes, but there was nothing. Had he... imagined it? Was he really so tired that his brain was starting to play tricks on him?

But it _had_ been there. Kageyama was sure of it. He trusted his sharpened senses more than anything else. Even though it probably wasn't the boy, _something_ had been out there. Perhaps a fox. They had orange fur. He'd simply been mistaken.

 _Yes._ He tugged off his cloak and sheathed Witchblade with a dismissive shake of the head and crawled into his tent. _You just need to sleep. Everything will be better in the morning. We'll reach the village, clear up the case, and head back home._

He repeated the words to himself over and over again as he threw his clothes to the side and crawled into the sleeping bag. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, shivering as cold seeped underneath the thin blanket. _You're being stupid, Tobio. You just need some sleep._

 _Sleep, and tomorrow, everything will be better._


	4. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

 **⁓✫⁓**

* * *

The next morning, Kageyama was far more irritated than usual. Although he'd known they'd have to rise early, he _despised_ waking before sunrise. The earth was still sleeping, the wind barely a whisper in the trees and the animals all curled up in their nests or dens. Even nature knew it was nonsensical to be out before dawn.

Yet here they were, traipsing through the forest on horseback at the crack of decent. The village was still a few clicks away, so they'd likely reach it near noon. By that point, Kageyama was earnestly beginning to wish they got attacked by bears or wolves so he had a reason to go back. Even if a few soldiers were maimed, it was worth it to be out of this unbearably hot sun.

The only good thing about leaving early was that Oikawa was more reserved in the morning and too tired to annoy him. He was riding at the front of the party beside Iwaizumi, head half-resting against his horse's back while his eyelids constantly twitched as he tried to keep himself from falling asleep. Kageyama could've easily nailed him with a rock and knocked him right off his steed to be trampled underneath the line of carriages.

The thought was so tempting his fingers tapped an anxious rhythm against the horn of his saddle in anticipation, but he still had enough rationality left to strangle the homicidal urges and focus on the surroundings instead. Still no sign of Witches, of course. Not even a single leaf or stick out of place on the dirt path.

Saints above, if this continued, he might actually consider ending it all. Had he really joined the Gold Unit just to transverse through the woods at an unspeakable hour to air out paranoid claims of curses? Was _that_ what he'd wasted ten years of training on? Paranoia?

Kageyama sighed and tried to distract himself from the morose thoughts by calculating how many more miles they had yet to travel. Based on the positioning of the sun, they'd only have another hour or so of northward riding before they reached the outskirts of the village and the borders of Karasuno Kingdom.

The positioning made him more weary than the claim itself. The village of Kuroi was located along the western border of Karasuno's great rival, the Empire of Shiratorizawa. Relations between their two countries had been strained for years, both too wary of the other to declare war. The result was a political strain, an unspoken tension between their two peoples. Each kingdom seemed to be waiting for the other to make a wrong move and spark a crusade they all knew was inevitable.

The fact that there had been a Witch sighting reported so near the border was suspicious to say the least. Kageyama's militaristic training had immediately running through each of the worst scenarios; a trap, an ambush, a ploy to draw them across the border and break the weak barrier of peace.

But he had to remain calm. Panic was useless. It mad even the best soldiers fall prey to doubt, which was the last thing he needed. Besides, it was just empty claims anyway. He was reading too much into it. They'd search the area, find nothing, and head back to give a lackluster report to the king, just like always.

The only thing Kageyama had to worry about was whether or not he'd die of boredom before they reached Kuroi.

* * *

By the time they approached the edge of the forest, the sun hung low and lazy in the sky like a sagging golden egg yolk and sweat was dripping down Kageyama's back and the flanks of the Unit's horses. As the party pulled their caravans to a stop a few feet from the border of the village, Oikawa reined in his mount and wiped his forehead, letting out a harsh sigh through his teeth. "Alright, everyone, we're approaching Kuroi. Keep your eyes and ears open. Remember, we're here to investigate."

As Oikawa pulled his stallion forward and spurred the procession back into movement, Kageyama rolled his eyes towards the forest and pretended to be dutifully searching for a magic user amidst the foliage. He was just thinking how he wanted to stick the back of Oikawa's head with a throwing knife when an arrow whizzed past Iwaizumi's left ear and struck one of the wooden wagons.

Immediately, horses reared and soldiers shouted as the procession dispersed and their Unit dissolved into madness. Kageyama steered his mare towards the clearing, head lowered over her neck as he drew his Witchblade and prepared for a fight.

As he rode into the clearing, the full chaos of the situation came crashing down with the weight of a two-ton grizzly. Kuroi was filled with men on foot and horseback, faces covered by rags as they attacked the villages with bows and swords. As their Unit crossed the village borders, the bandits immediately assaulted them with a barrage of arrows, downing several horses as equine shrieks filled the air along with the screams of wounded villagers.

Kageyama dismounted his mare, sparing no time in jumping into the fray, slashing at the ankles of the nearest renegade and knocking him off his feet. He assessed the situation in numbers: there were about twenty two bandits and maybe fifty or sixty villagers, a quarter of them injured. The first priority had to be the civilians.

As he stuck his blade through the chest of one bandit and elbowed another in the nose, a shout drew his attention to a nearby skirmish between a boy and a sword-wielding attacker. As Kageyama sprinted towards them, he intercepted what would've been a death blow and kicked the man in the chest, sending him stumbling back far enough for Kageyama to make a quick diagonal slash across his abdomen and shuck his lifeless body to the ground.

Flicking the blood from his blade, Kageyama turned and locked gazes with the villager. His eyes widened in recognition as fiery red filled his sight. "It's _you_." He pulled the redheaded boy to his feet and studied him calculatingly, shifting his weight to his left foot to relieve the pressure of his weighted sword. "You're the boy from the tavern. You live all the way out here?"

"I don't think now is really the time for idle conversation," the boy responded acridly, wiping blood from a cut across his cheek. His eyes found the crest on Kageyama's Unit jacket and his gaze turned wary. "You... You're a soldier?"

"Yes." Kageyama paused to stab a passing bandit through the chest before he continued. "Why, does that bother you?"

"Um... no?" The answer seemed a little hesitant. "So... you're the ones sent to investigate the curse then?" His voice wavered on the word 'curse' but Kageyama had no spare time to overthink it.

"Maybe we shouldn't discuss this now." He pulled the redhead out of the way of an arrow and quickly dispatched the shooter with a throwing knife. "You should get inside. It's not safe."

"I can't. My friend is out here somewhere." The boy dodged another arrow and stamped his foot in frustration: definitely an odd approach to a near-death experience. "How soon can you people get rid of these thugs? I'm about to pick up a bow and start shooting."

Kageyama raised an eyebrow. "Uh... we're working on it. Don't you want to... take cover?" This was a new reaction to danger, and it was... interesting? Definitely not what he'd been expecting. The boy came across entirely different now than when they'd first met. Not that he should've been thinking about _that_ in the middle of a fight.

"I can find your friend. You go hide somewhere."

"No!" the boy refused insistently, dodging another arrow. "I can't just leave him out here!"

"I swear to—" Kageyama bit his words off and let out a harsh sigh. "Fine, just stay behind me then, and watch out." He sliced an arrow in half with his blade and blew a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. There seemed to be no end to these thugs running rampant through the village. Kageyama could see dozens of his fellow soldiers scattered throughout the clearing, but Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Daichi were nowhere in sight.

"How did this even happen?" he asked the redhead, grabbing the sleeve of his brown tunic to tug him out of the way of another projectile. "Where did all these men come from, and why are they attacking your village?"

" _Hellfire_ if I know," the boy responded breathlessly. "They just appeared from the north out of nowhere and started pillaging and _killing_ everyone!" He gestured wildly as he talked, almost to the point where he smacked Kageyama in the face a few times. "I have no clue why they'd attack us! We haven't even hit harvest-time yet."

Kageyama dispatched an archer and shot the boy a look. The news was certainly less than reassuring, especially considering the claims these villagers had made about a curse bringing misfortune to them. A seemingly meaningless attack was pretty _unfortunate_.

Oh well. All he had to do was take down a few more bandits and he'd be able to get the full story.

* * *

By the time the village had been cleared, Kageyama was so exhausted, he wanted to collapse in the nearest pile of hay and pass out. Unfortunately, military protocol didn't allow for that, so instead, he followed the mystery boy as he looked for his friend and took stock of the losses.

While all of the bandits had been slain, only about nine or ten Unit members were among the dead, their badges and Witchblades having already been collected by other soldiers.

As Kageyama followed the boy through the carnage, he held his blade tightly, still wary of attack. Other villagers were recovering from the slaughter, helping their wounded friends and family to safety while Unit soldiers canvassed the fallen bodies.

"So...," he began hesitantly, "what's your name?"

"Oh... it's Hinata. Hinata Shōyō." He glanced at Kageyama sidelong. He seemed almost distrustful of him... probably because of how strange he'd acted during their first meeting. "What's yours?"

"Kageyama Tobio." He thought about smiling but then thought better of it and cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, your friend: what does he look like, exactly?"

"Silver hair, light brown eyes. Hard to miss." Hinata kicked aside a broken bow and wandered farther into the village, pale lips curling into a frown as his eyes searched the bloody landscape. The sun had begun to drift lower in the sky, casting the forest in the gray layer of dusk. Thunder rumbled off on the horizon, signaling a coming storm.

As Hinata trudged farther ahead, a few drops splattered against the dirt, developing from a drizzle into a downpour in the space of a few seconds. Kageyama cursed and pulled the cowled hood of his jacket over head and hurried after him, squinting through the haze of raindrops. "Your friend is probably inside somewhere. We should get out of this rain."

Hinata came to a stop at the edge of the forest and crossed his arms, staring out into the darkness searchingly. He must've not found anything, because he turned and walked past Kageyama without a word. "Yeah... okay."

They started back towards the center of the village and Kageyama sheathed his Witchblade, searching through the gathered soldiers ahead for Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Daichi was standing with a man who looked to be in his fifties or sixties, talking somberly. He studied them closely to try and read their lips, but it was impossible through the blur of the rain.

Most of the bodies had been cleared away, and the caravans had been moved in to form a rough semicircle along the forest border of Kuroi. Soldiers were beginning to set up camp while others helped tend to wounded villagers and fellow Unit members. It appeared a majority of them had suffered at least minor injuries, only a few sporting deeper cuts or sprains.

The bodies of the bandits had been dumped in a shallow grave nearby, the possessions they'd stolen having been returned to their original owners. Kageyama couldn't pick out any distinctive features among the group to tie them to any specific party, but he was sure they'd have time to search for clues later, after the storm had passed. For now, he needed to report to his superiors and help with first aid.

Turning to Hinata, Kageyama raised a hand to bid him farewell. "Goodbye for now. I need to report to my commanding officer. I, um... hope you locate your friend."

A faint smile graced Hinata's features, seeming like a bright spot of sun in the indigo darkness. "Thank you." He hesitated a moment before leaving, nailing Kageyama with a glance that made him feel like the boy could see straight into his very soul. "Will I... see you again?"

"Um... I— I suppose so." Kageyama scratched his neck in a vain attempt to keep from showing his discomposure at the question. "My Unit should be around a few more days to investigate, so yes... you'll, um, see me." He trailed off lamely and tried not to unsheathe his blade and kill himself right on the spot.

"Mm..." Hinata's eyes sparkled with amusement at his discomfiture, making him look almost faerie-like. His lips were only just parting to speak when his gaze locked haltingly on something over Kageyama's shoulder and his eyes widened, mouth opening to shout a warning.

Kageyama had just enough time to turn a fraction of an inch, barely registering as an arrow struck him, impaling itself nock-deep in his left shoulder. He let out a pained gasp as the momentum of the projectile carried his body back, knocking him off his feet and into the mud.

His head struck a rock, and the last thing Kageyama was aware of was Hinata's hazy heart-shaped face floating above him like the dancing spark of a candle flame before the darkness of the sky swallowed him whole.


	5. Chapter Five

**CHAPTER FIVE**

 **⁓✫⁓**

* * *

The smell of smoke filled Kageyama's nose and he jerked upright roughly, struggling to draw breath as he whipped his head around, trying futilely to find something to ground himself. When he couldn't, he stumbled to his feet blearily, coughing violently, and swayed as his perception shifted drastically due to the sudden upright position.

Fire surrounded him, flames licking up wooden walls and consuming the structure like a crashing wave's hungry opposite. From outside came the sound of screams and alarm bells clanging, accompanied by the harsh hiss of water on fire, the subdued rumbling of thunder off in the distance, and dozens of rapid footsteps sloshing through mud.

This didn't make any sense. What was happening? Where was he?

Crashing desperately through the door of the smoldering building, Kageyama collapsed outside in a muddy puddle, coughing on hands and knees to rid his lungs of the acrid, bitter-tasting smoke. As he looked up, fire engulfed his vision completely, blossoming red and deadly among the clusters of wooden shops and houses all around.

Rain soaked into his clothes and slid down his back as he pushed himself up and stumbled forward blindly, running into people fleeing in the opposite direction. Ceiling beams collapsed to his left, sending up showers of sparks through the hazy of the storm. Piercing screams and cries filled his head in a never-ending symphony of pain and suffering.

Hot tears escaped Kageyama's burning eyes and slid down his cheeks as he staggered weakly into the town square, ignoring the villagers trapped underneath shifting piles of charred rubble to stare uncomprehendingly at the carnage up ahead: A lone man stood in the rain, hands held out and head tilted skyward, releasing eerie peals of echoing, mad laughter.

Fire sprouted from his hands like flowers from fertile earth, scorching paths through the rain to overcome the houses that had yet to succumb to the ravenous inferno. The too-bright tongues of flame, the mad laughter, the scent of screaming, the smell of charred flesh: Kageyama suddenly understood exactly where he was.

He was standing in his home... his home that had been burned to the ground thirteen years ago.

It was impossible, but... every single detail matched _exactly_. Instead of standing in the middle of Kuroi, he was now in Higanbana village, his birthplace; the place where his parents and countless others had died at the hands of a rampaging Witch. Even though he didn't want to believe it, the evidence was all around; from the scorched yet familiar buildings, the flashes of recognizable visages running through the streets, and the wicked laugh.

Kageyama was in the middle of the destruction of Higanbana village... all over again.

As he came to the horrifying realization, the early stages of panic began to set in and Kageyama tried to even his breathing as he'd been trained to do, but his senses were utterly overwhelmed by the painful memories. It was all _too_ real, the cold rain and the smoke and the _screaming_. How was he there— _why_ was he there?

The dread metastasized in his chest like a ball of lead and Kageyama squeezed his eyes shut tight, willing the terror down; back to the dark place reserved for it where it would never bother him; but his breaths kept getting shorter and shorter until he was gasping, choking on mouthfuls of rain and feeling the world tilt underneath him.

As he fell to the ground, a hoarse scream tore away from his throat and cut through the air like an arrow.

Even when he ran out of air, he still couldn't stop screaming.

* * *

"WAKE UP!"

Kageyama jerked awake harshly as a hand slapped him hard across the cheek. The scream died in his throat and he shot up, panting and whipping his head around in a panic, registering the intact, flame-less stone walls around him with difficulty, mind residually trapped in the memories of smoke and fire.

As his consciousness struggled to regain its bounds, Kageyama finally managed to focus on the pale, blurry face hovering anxiously in front of him: Hinata Shōyō. His familiar presence was what helped Kageyama ground himself firmly back in reality, where the only smell that permeated the air was one of mint and lavender from an odd paste smeared across his bare chest.

"Wh— Where am—" His voice grated against his ears in an unfamiliar rasp and he cleared his throat before trying again. "What... happened?"

He tried to sit up, but Hinata pushed him back down. "Don't even think about trying to get up." His amber eyes bore into Kageyama's so intensely, he had to look away, afraid the redheaded boy was stealing away all his secrets with that unyielding stare. "Don't you remember what happened? You were shot in your left shoulder."

"...Oh." Kageyama closed his eyes and released a despondent sigh. He'd completely forgotten about the bandits and the stray arrow. "That's right."

When he opened them again, Hinata was kneeling over his chest, covering his wound with more sweet-smelling goo. As he finished and went to retrieve a towel, Kageyama propped himself up slowly and analyzed the cluttered space. The place was small, but not uncomfortably so, inhabited by a fireplace, a table and two chairs, a rack of assorted bottles and jars, and the bed he currently occupied.

As Hinata returned to his side with a bucket of water and a rag, Kageyama considered him warily. "So... _you_ did this, then? The medical care, I mean."

He nodded, remaining focused on his work as he soaked the rag and began cleaning the dried blood from Kageyama's chest. "Yes. I'm an herbalist." He gestured at the green substance with his free hand. "That's a healing poultice of infused lavender, marigold, comfrey, peppermint, and aloe vera." He dipped the bloody cloth in the water and wrung it out. "A few days of rest and you should be back to new."

"Thank you..." Kageyama stared out a tiny window set in the far wall of the house to see rain pouring down in sheets as thick as cotton, lightning flashing eerily through the black haze. "It's still raining... How long was I out?"

Hinata spared a fleeting glance outside. "Not long. Only a couple of hours." A faint smile crossed his lips. "I'm very good at what I do, and your comrades were very concerned, and rather _persistent_. They wouldn't leave me alone until I told them you'd be able to fully recover, and even then, Suga had to—"

Before he could finish speaking, the door swung open and a silver-haired individual hastened past the threshold, shutting out the onslaught of rain with a relieved sigh. "Ah, I _hate_ the rain." He shook water out of his hair—like a dog, Kageyama thought—and set down the basket tucked under his arm, which was filled to the brim with vegetables and raw herbs.

As he shrugged out of his dripping wet and patchy cotton jacket, his gaze focused on Hinata and Kageyama. "Oh, you're awake!" He darted deftly around the table, forgetting his produce in favor of taking Hinata's position at his bedside and rolling up the sleeves of his damp white tunic. "Ooh, very nice poultice, Shōyō."

"I'm sorry, but... _who are you_?" Kageyama inquired, examining the newcomer dubiously. He seemed familiar, somehow, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why...

"Oh, I'm Sugawara Kōshi, but most people just call me Suga!" He smiled in a way that somehow instantly put Kageyama at ease. "I guess you could say I'm Hinata's boss, but we were friends long before that." As he said the word 'friend,' Kageyama realized he was the person Hinata had been searching for earlier—silver hair and brown eyes; hard to miss.

"Nice to meet you..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um... how soon do you think I'll be able to move around freely? I should really report to my superior as soon as possible."

Suga's mouth turned down in the beginnings of a frown. "Well... I wouldn't worry about that now. The arrow pierced right through your shoulder and clipped your collarbone. I pulled it out, but it was very close to an artery, so I'd like you to wait at least a few more hours before moving in case there's a minute tear." He glanced out the window at the boundless rain. "Besides, I doubt anyone's out in this storm."

A loud peal of thunder accentuated his statement and Kageyama had no choice but to settle down compliantly, knowing he was right. As he lay still, Suga finished checking his wound and plastered a large bandage over the smeared paste, securing it with strips of earthly odorous plaster. He wiped his hands on his slacks afterward and stood back with a satisfied hum. "That should do it! Now, you should really get some rest."

Although he wanted to argue, Kageyama was beginning to feel the strain of his wounds and settled down complacently while Suga cleared away his supplies and Hinata returned with a damp cloth. As he set it on his forehead, Kageyama closed his eyes, feeling his tensed muscles finally relax. The scent of lavender invaded his senses, lulling him into a deep, blissful sleep.

* * *

For the longest time, Kageyama drifted in and out of dreams; some nightmares, some not. The sound of crying and the smell of peppermint shifted through each of them, and sometimes a blurry vision of a hand applying bandages to his chest or a blob of red hair. Kageyama felt like he was lying on his back in the middle of a stream, unable to move as he was pulled along by the current and sucked down into the deep.

The longest dream was of two armies fighting, swords clashing and magic flying and blood _everywhere_ , a small hand clenched in his, fingers dripping red. He woke only for a moment after it, feeling hot tears on his skin before he slipped away again, this time into one of his earliest memories; lying on a hill stargazing with his mother.

 _Look, there's a whole other world up there,_ she said, pulling him closer as she swept her hand across the sky. _All of those stars are other villages, and in each of them, there are other little boys, gazing down at our star from their hilltops._ She laughed, the sound a bright echo in the darkness. _When we were kids, your father always used to say that if you stood on your head, you'd fall right up there._

 _How else can you get there?_ he asked her, studying the constellations like they were a map to be followed. _I want to see it._

She smiled, staring up at the moon like it was an old friend. _Well, you'll go there one day. I think everyone does._ She grabbed him and flipped herself upright, squeezing him tight, ignoring his protests. _But not for a long time. For now, all we can do it look, and wait._

* * *

He wasn't sure if he was awake when he opened his eyes again, because fire filled Kageyama's sight and he was sure he was trapped in another nightmare of Higanbana. But Hinata was there now, floating above him, hands held underneath an iron pot, palms red hot against the metal, as if a coal burned underneath his skin.

Kageyama closed his eyes again and fell into the abyss of sleep, tumbling into a dream of the day he applied to join the royal training program. He'd been so scrappy back then, only eight years old but already tall, and stick-thin at that. He hadn't cut his hair in years and wore a permanently guarded expression, covered in dirt and bruises.

They'd turned him down at first, but after weeks of persistence—and a bath in a local stream—they'd thrown him in with the others, not expecting him to make it past day one. Boy, did he prove them wrong: Day after day, week after week, Kageyama kept going like a horse with no rider and no destination, plowing through the training until the only thing keeping him going was the scraps of food he got at every meal.

Ten long years of crawling his way through the ranks, using every bit of pent-up anger and sadness to hone his skills in combat. He remembered every bruise, every sore muscle, every person who doubted him, and every opponent he defeated. By the time he was sixteen, he'd already developed the reflexes of a soldier years ahead of him and was taking on the training captains, who were the only ones who challenged him.

When the day finally came for his battle for success to end, Kageyama went before the king himself, along with the others who had passed the rigorous training regimen, and was knighted into the Gold Unit of the Royal Extermination Corp. They cut his hair, gave him a uniform, a barracks, a weapon, and a new goal; one to succeed.

If only things could be as simple now as they were back then, when all he had to worry about was getting on his superiors' good sides and beating everyone else in sparring matches. When had that enthusiasm turned into indignation and restlessness? When did he become so obsessed with killing a _person_ —a person who could be good or evil, man or woman, child or adult, but was hated and massacred simply because of _one_ part of them?

Kageyama didn't like to think about it consciously, but there was no way to avoid the question in the haze of dreams. What was morally right, his mind wondered, and did he even know what 'morally right' _was_? How was it possible to answer such a difficult question? A person was supposed to be judged on their actions, and nothing else: that's what he'd been taught by his parents.

What was truly _right_? And why, saints above, was it so hard to decide?

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope everyone liked this chapter! I threw in a little angst and some of Kags' backstory, so hopefully y'all are pumped now. Anyway, a big thanks to all the reviewers! I barely have time to write, let alone respond to you guys, but it brightens up my day whenever I get a notification of a new review, so thank you all! ^-^

Until next time, ciao~


	6. Chapter Six

**CHAPTER SIX**

 **⁓✫⁓**

* * *

"Feeling any better?"

When Kageyama woke the next morning, he was greeted by a blurry redhead, who offered him a cup of tea. As he sat up to accept it, his tired eyes focused and he squinted up at a figure he now recognized as Hinata. He frowned, faintly recalling the odd dream he'd had during the night: Hinata's palms red-hot underneath an iron cauldron, like burning coals.

"Yeah... I'm fine."

Kageyama eyed him warily as he sipped the honeyed herbal tea. He couldn't outright say anything to him: after all, it was probably just a simple dream. But his military training told him to be cautious, and he couldn't ignore the feeling of suspicion brewing in his gut.

As he finished the last of the tea, Hinata took the cup from him and traded it in for a damp rag, which he set against the table as he began to unwrap Kageyama's bandage. He winced as the plaster was ripped off his skin, but Hinata was merciless and didn't pause until it was all stripped off, leaving his chest stinging pink.

He took the damp rag and began to methodically clean off the poultice—gently, this time, thank the saints.

As he worked, Kageyama stared out the cottage's small window. The rain from the previous day had disappeared, leaving a musty scent in the air and streams of water dripping from the eaves of the house. Kageyama could hear villagers moving about, the bleating of sheep, and the distant shouts of soldiers. They must've re-commenced their investigation now that the storm had ended.

As if his thoughts summoned them, there came a knock at the door, and Hinata paused in his work to open it. Three soldiers stood beyond the threshold, hand on their sword pommels, with Oikawa in the lead. The captain barely spared a glance the redhead's way, edging past him with his sights set on Kageyama.

"I'm glad to see you've recovered from your wounds, Kageyama." He went to sit in the chair beside his bed, but like a shadow, Hinata ducked under him and took it first, shooting the captain a brazen look as he continued his previous task. Kageyama almost snorted at Oikawa's befuddled look but managed to hold it in as the man took a firm upright position instead.

"So, I trust you're not here simply to check in on my well-being?" he drawled, amused by his superior's clear discomfort. "How are things going with the mission?"

"You're correct." Oikawa cleared his throat. "Our work was halted due to the storm, but we're back on schedule as of early this morning. A meeting has been scheduled with the village elder, and I came to inquire after your attendance. Will you be able to join us?"

"If the healer gives the say-so." Kageyama nodded over at Hinata, who jumped at the attention.

He smeared off the last of the paste and discarded the rag, studiously avoiding the soldiers' eyes. "After I re-bandage his shoulder, he should be alright to go."

"Excellent." Oikawa's conceited smirk settled back over his features as he patronizingly bowed to Hinata. "Good one, saving his miserable life." His tone was a little too snide to be joking as he turned to the door, raising a hand to Kageyama. "See you at the meeting, soldier."

As soon as the door was closed, Kageyama snorted, but before he could voice his thoughts, Hinata stole them straight from his lips. "What a snide clod. _Someone_ ought to tell him he doesn't own the kingdom, before his head swells any larger."

Kageyama burst out laughing, which almost seemed to startle the redhead for a moment before he grinned. "Oh, so you _are_ capable of smiling. That's a shock." He grabbed a fresh bandage and began to dry off his chest. "You had me scared for a moment, you know. I thought you were as high-and-mighty as the rest."

"Who, me? Surely you quip. As if I could be _half_ as vain as that half-witted dolt Oikawa."

They shared a smile, and the pain in Kageyama's chest seemed to lessen.

* * *

Kageyama walked into the elder's hut and immediately banked at the smell. A pot of _something_ was cooking in the corner, and whatever it was, he was quite sure he'd set half a foot in the grave already just smelling it. His fellow soldiers were doing a poor job of hiding their own opinions of the brew, covering their noses with their tunics. As he wandered farther into the crowded space, the odor only worsened.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi were clustered around the small hearth, talking in low voices with a small man Kageyama guessed to be the village chief. Sawamura stood closely behind them, arms crossed in his usual expression of stoic blankness. Whatever they were discussing had yet to be brought to the attention of the other soldiers, and Kageyama scooted behind a few of his taller comrades close to them so they wouldn't catch him eavesdropping.

"—curse's effects have been getting much worse as of late," the village chieftain was saying in hushed tones. He was so small, he practically disappeared into his small reed chair, and a thin line of sweat beaded on his forehead. "Livestock goes missing in the night, storms wash our crops away, and the soil continues to slowly die. We fear all of it will be contaminated before the end of Fifth Moon. The visit from those bandits only worsened things."

"And you truly believe it is a curse's doing?" Iwaizumi asked lowly. "We do _not_ like our time to wasted on faulty claims, sir. If there is the slightest chance this is due to natural causes, we won't precious waste time looking into superstitions."

"Believe you me, I wish it was of natural cause," the chief replied gravely. "I am _certain_ this is the plague of a Witch's magic—and I have my suspicions of who may be behind it." He beady black eyes shone in the light of the hearth. "You have my word, sir: a Witch is behind this."

Iwaizumi studied the man a moment longer before turning to nod his approval to Oikawa. "Then we shall begin our investigation."

The captain stood, hand resting firmly on his sword, and turned to address the gathered soldiers, who immediately straightened under his attention. "Alright, ladies, listen up! As of this moment, you are all to be on full alert."

He paced back and forth in front of the clustered men, somehow managing to make eye contact with each one as he passed. "I will be splitting you up into several brigades! You will comb your allotted areas and report back any unusual activity directly to me!" His sharp eyes roamed over the men, searching for any weak links. "If any of you are caught loitering, it'll be your head! Understood?"

The soldiers shouted their assent, waiting for his nod to disperse from the hut.

Kageyama tried to escape with the rest of the lot, but Oikawa, unfortunately, caught him in the act. "Oi, Kageyama, stay behind a moment!" He didn't wait for him to turn around to continue on, as per usual. "We'll officially be undergoing the full investigation. I sent the others to poke around the village and surrounding woods, but I have another job for you."

"Of course," he said without turning around. He really just wanted to go lay back down. His shoulder was beginning to ache again.

He felt a bit like stabbing something, but when his hand wandered to his side to rest on his sword hilt reflexively, the scabbard wasn't there. He must've left it back in Hinata and Sugawara's cottage.

"I need you to investigate into the chief's suppositions." Oikawa's voice clearly stated that he didn't think the man's opinion held any merit, but this was his village, so he would give him this small benefit of the doubt. "He has an inkling as to who exactly the hidden Witch may be."

That got his attention, and Kageyama finally turned to face him. "Oh? And who does he suspect?"

"Why, fancy this..." The captain's eyes twinkled with humor, and a smirk twitched at the corners of his lips. "He suspects your little redheaded healer."

* * *

When Kageyama returned to the herbalists' small shared hut, a lump rested in his throat, like solid lead pressing against his trachea.

The chief suspected Hinata... That alone was enough to make him question whether his 'dream' had really been a _dream_. Not only that, but his previous encounters with Hinata had seemed strange, as well. Like when he had the oddest feeling he'd seen him in the woods...

But he and Suga had been nothing but kind to Kageyama since his arrival. He couldn't betray their kindness by accusing Hinata of _Witchcraft_.

The suspicion was probably misplaced, anyhow. Kageyama simply couldn't picture Hinata as a bloodthirsty monster, capable of slaying thousands. Despite his sharp wit and the blazing fire in his eyes, Kageyama doubted he could even harm a butterfly. And even if his intuition turned out to be wrong, he couldn't accuse innocent people.

He'd carry out Oikawa's damned investigation, but he wouldn't find anything amiss—he _couldn't_ find anything.

"Are you going to stand around outside all day?"

Kageyama jumped, whipping his head around in surprise, and Hinata offered him an amused smile from the windowsill. His forearms were perched against it, and a brown apron was tied loosely around his neck, ends brushing the wood as he leaned out. "You can come inside, you know. I need to check your wound again, anyway.

"Loitering as you are, people might begin to think you're a stalker." He ducked out of sight with a smirk, and Kageyama found himself unusually flustered.

He'd never encountered such a spitfire person before: one with no respect for authority whatsoever. The way he'd spoken to Oikawa was a clear example of his regard for the military, and even though Kageyama was a guard himself, the way Hinata spoke to him made him feel as if they were old friends.

His smile, his eyes, his posture: everything about him screamed of an almost disconcerting composure.

It was rare to see anyone so at ease in a land full of curses and murderers, but Hinata's face shone like the snow, as if he were somehow untouched by the bitterness and impurity of the world. No sadness lingered in the shadow of his smiles, as it did with Kageyama's. He seemed invincible to the darkness.

But if that were true, why did his eyes glow with such an anguished, untameable fire?

* * *

Hinata and Suga offered to let him stay at their place that night in order to keep an eye on his wound. He'd accidentally opened it up at dinner, when someone tripped and nearly impaled one of the villagers. Apparently, lunging to catch a steak knife between your fingertips while burdened with a fresh chest wound wasn't the _best_ thing to do to help with the healing process.

Kageyama couldn't say he missed the bustle of the soldiers' campground all that much. It was quieter in the small cottage, and it didn't smell like leather polish and body odor. The scent of sage and ginger was far more comforting, and sleeping on a mattress rather than a thin bedroll was a welcomed luxury.

It made him think of home: Not of his place back at the barracks, but of his childhood home. Sleeping between his parents on cold nights, the feeling of downy blankets, and the smell of fresh-baked bread each morning. Helping his mother steep tea leaves over the fire, and helping his father collect wood in the nearby forest.

When they returned, Kageyama's mother would be waiting with the tea and warm pastries. She was a baker, and she made the most mouthwatering _Skolebrød_. The coconut flakes melted in his mouth, and the dough was soft and chewy. It was rare to have something so sweet, and the leftovers from the bakery always made the whole house smell like powdered sugar.

The warmth of the memories was beginning to lull him to sleep when Kageyama overheard a whisper. He didn't open his eyes, but his ears strained to listen to the quiet conversation.

"Are you sure everything will be okay with all these soldiers here?" It was Hinata who spoke, voice tight. "After those bandits attacked earlier, they'll be on even higher alert."

"Don't worry," Sugawara reassured him. "We'll be fine, just as we always are. Your mother left you in my care, Shōyō. Do you think I would ever break a promise to her? The soldiers will investigate, find nothing amiss, and leave, just as they have before."

 _Before_? What did he mean?

Hinata sighed. "I suppose you're right... But I just get the strangest feeling something big is about to happen." Kageyama felt the tingling sensation of a gaze boring into his back. "This soldier... He seems different from the others. Nicer, but far more intuitive. I'm scared he'll—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Suga cut him off. "I _promise_ you, everything will be alright. I'll protect you, like I always do. The investigation will be over before you know it, and the Witchhunters will leave again. There's no use in worrying, Shōyō. _Trust me_ on this."

There was a beat of silence before Hinata sighed again; a deep and dismal sound. "Alright, alright: I trust you." There came a faint exhalation of air and a sizzle as a candle flame was blown out before footsteps padded across the wooden floor. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight."

As their voices died away, Kageyama was left to wonder over everything Suga had said about Hinata's mother and his supposed 'promise' to her. What did he mean when he said he'd 'protect Hinata, like he always did'? And what, saints above, did the two of them possibly have to hide?

* * *

 **A/N:** I finally finished the next chapter for this, and I gotta say, I missed writing for this story. High fantasy is just so much fun uwu


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